


Fleabag

by untouchable



Category: Fleabag (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 18:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchable/pseuds/untouchable
Summary: Love is awful.





	Fleabag

**Author's Note:**

> I finished season 2 last night and just...couldn't help myself.

Blood dripping down her chin, Fleabag looks in the mirror.

“This is a love story.”

***

“I don’t know what to do with it.”

Boo tilts her head. “With what?”

There are candles all around, flickering in the quiet dimness. Something about this moment feels holy.

“With all the love I have for her. I don’t know where to...put it now,” Fleabag whispers. A tear rolls down her cheek.

“I’ll take it,” Boo says, and something swells up in Fleabag’s throat. It comes out as a laugh.

“No, I’m serious,” Boo nudges her. “It sounds lovely. I’ll have it. You have to give it to me.”

“Okay.”

Boo smiles softly. “It’s got to go somewhere.”

***

“I love you, but I don’t like you, not all the time,” her dad says as she’s tying his shoe in the attic.

The wedding is starting any minute, she has to get him down to the garden, but Fleabag takes a moment to just stare up at him. On her knees, he seems so familiar and so far away. 

She realizes suddenly that he’s always been a little wary of her, a little afraid. He’s looking at her the way he’d looked at her mother, the way some people gaze up at the crucifix in church. It had hurt so much when she was a young girl, the way her dad acted around her, but Fleabag doesn’t feel like a girl at all now. She feels like a god.

***

“And love isn’t something that weak people do,” the priest tells them, and everyone at the wedding is looking at him, but he’s looking at Fleabag.

***

They’re sitting on the bench at the bus stop, grime and graffiti all around, her and this foul-mouthed Catholic priest. She fancies him even more when he’s wearing the black ensemble and collar. _“Do you want to fuck the priest, or do you want to fuck God?”_

Fleabag swallows. “It’s god, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn. You know, the worst part is that...I fucking love you. I _love_ you.”

“ _Empty heart_ ,” that therapist had said, but no, that isn’t it at all, the problem isn’t emptiness—Fleabag feels full. Like there’s so much in her, love or some bullshit, and she doesn’t know what to do with it, and it feels so fucking heavy. Painful, like her dad said. Her mother is dead and Boo is dead and the priest is walking away and Fleabag, she is still the girl with too much love and nowhere to put it.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Fleabag belongs to the incredible PWB. All dialogue is hers, but I did twist it a bit.


End file.
